“No.”
“Liv.”
“I don't want a meeting where everyone sits around and she tells me why.”
Michael frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because I already know she has reasons.”
“That does not change what she did.”
“Exactly.”
Diane looked toward Olivia.
“What do you want?”
The teenager thought.
“I want my files checked.”
“My computer.”
“My cloud account.”
“I want to know if she sent anything to herself.”
Michael nodded.
“Okay.”
“I want Dad to change the house access.”
“Done.”
“Temporary.”
Olivia looked at Diane.
“Not forever.”
Diane’s eyes filled.
Even after everything, Olivia was protecting Brooke from permanent banishment.
Not because she had forgiven.
Because she understood extremes frightened Diane.
Olivia continued.
“And I don't want you telling people I won because the dress got cut.”
Diane almost smiled.
“I wasn't going to.”
“Yes, you were.”
“What?”
“You love a comeback story.”
Michael coughed to hide a laugh.
Diane stared.
“Excuse me?”
“You told everyone about my broken wrist at the art show.”
“That was inspiring.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Debatable.”
Good.
For three minutes, they were normal again.
Then Michael’s expression changed.
“There's another issue.”
Olivia looked up.
“If Brooke used your designs commercially…”
“I know.”
“No.”
He spoke carefully.
“I am not saying lawsuit.”
“Good.”
“I am saying documentation matters.”
Diane nodded.
Michael continued.
“Her sponsored content may include agreements saying the work is original.”
Olivia went still.
She had not thought that far.
Brooke’s online brand was no longer merely a hobby.
She had two active collaborations with boutique clothing companies.
One involved a small limited-run capsule scheduled for spring.
If any concept files originated from Olivia’s work, the problem extended beyond family hurt.
It became business.
Diane whispered:
“Oh, Brooke.”
Olivia looked at her.
Not triumph.
Fear.
“I don't want to ruin her.”
Michael answered immediately.
“You are not responsible for protecting her from the consequences of what she chose.”
Olivia’s face tightened.
Diane added:
“But we also do not know the extent yet.”
That mattered.
Facts first.
They hired someone.
Not a private detective.
Not a dramatic attorney.
An independent digital-forensics consultant recommended by Michael’s firm and an intellectual-property lawyer named Evelyn Park.
Olivia hated the phrase intellectual property because it made her sketchbook sound like a corporation.
Evelyn explained carefully.
“Clothing design itself has limited copyright protection in the United States.”
Olivia nodded.
She had learned some of that in school.
“But original drawings, surface graphics, photographs, and other creative expression can be protected.”
“Separately, contracts and competition rules may define originality more broadly.”
Michael asked:
“So if Brooke copied garment concepts?”
“We do not jump to conclusions.”
Evelyn answered.
“First we identify what moved.”
Good.
The forensic review found three files copied from Olivia’s laptop to Brooke’s personal cloud account.
All three were design folders.
One contained scanned sketches.
One had technical flats.
One had photographs of Olivia’s muslin prototypes.
The third contained the navy gown development file.
Timestamps mattered.
Olivia’s original files predated Brooke’s online posts by months.
More concerning, one concept from Olivia’s folder appeared in a private pitch deck Brooke had submitted to a boutique retailer.
Not identical.
Modified.
But close enough that Brooke’s contract representation of wholly original concept development became questionable.
Diane sat through the lawyer’s explanation feeling physically sick.
Michael asked:
“What happens?”
Evelyn looked toward Olivia.
“That depends partly on what she wants.”
Olivia stared.
“Why?”
“Because some material belongs to you.”
“I’m sixteen.”
“Yes.”
“Does that change it?”
“You are still capable of owning creative work.”